


To Be Frank with You

by all_of_the_trash (orphan_account)



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: I mean I have a hobby, M/M, Trans Frank Iero, also Lindsey is Gerard's sister, anyways., but being sad isn't a hobby, but this is Frerard so it's not incest, for some reason Mikey is older than Gerard in this fic????, haha. ways. cause it's got Gee and Mikey, i'll stop now, just go along with it, like wow I need a hobby, seriously what's wrong with you, shameless self insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-09-07 19:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8813860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/all_of_the_trash
Summary: Frank is trans and very gay. Gerard, his best friend since, well, forever, might also be gay? Frank really fricking hopes so.A shameless self-insert fic. For @somebodythinkoftheunicorns on tumblr.





	1. Fuck the Cis-tem

**Author's Note:**

> the story that literally nobody asked for. Okay, Angel, you kinda asked for it but this probably isn't what you were thinking. Get ready for pining, slow updates, song quotes, dick jokes, you know. Everything that makes bandom fanfiction great.

"But honestly, fuck gender. Know what I mean?"

"Uhhh, kinda?" Jamia never made sense, especially not in the mornings. Frankie decided that she needed the last of the coffee, both to wake up completely and to keep it from Jamia.

"Like, you grow up and you're only allowed to wear certain things and like certain other things because society has decided that that's what makes you a girl. It's sick."

"So?" Yeah, Frankie was definitely not awake enough for this. "That's not gender's fault. That's society. Destroy the system."

"You mean... cis-tem?" Jamia said with a smirk, finger-gunning and leaning back until she fell off her ass onto her back. Frankie laughed a little too hard, and in a sick sense of poetic justice, ended up spewing hot coffee out of her nose onto the floor. She didn't regret it.

"Motherfucker!" she screamed as Jamia continued to laugh harder. "Jimmy, never let me drink coffee again."

Jamia, taking this a bit too literally, swiped the half full mug and began drinking from it. Frankie scowled at her. "You know the pet name is probably what makes people think we're dating."

"Okay no offense Jimmy-Jam, but ew. I am not a lesbian. I don't like girls."

Another long sip of coffee. "But I don't even have a gender." Jamia and Frankie were at a point where they could just drop a bombshell like that and keep on talking. "I still consider myself sapphic, but I am actually just a vaguely feminine yet genderless orb."

"How does that even work?"

"I don't know but I'm definitely suffering, so it must be working."

* * *

 

Frankie had always been kind of a tomboy. It had never really meant much to her, but if she thought about it, adults would make comments behind her back about her only friends being boys, about her always wearing boys' clothes, about preferring the nickname Frankie to her given name Francesca. Was it weird that she got along with boys better than girls? Apparently. It wasn't her fault that she and Gerard Way grew up so close, even though she was supposed to learn how to be a lady from his big sister Lindsey. Wasn't her fault that James Dewees latched on to her on the first day of fourth grade and decided they were going to be best friends. Definitely wasn't her fault that boys' clothes were so damn comfortable. Okay it might have been her fault that she occasionally stole shirts from Dewees to test that theory, but it's not wrong if it's done in the name of science, right? It's not like Dewees even noticed (his mother might have but that was a separate issue).

Okay, there might have been something distinctively masculine about Frankie. Or at the very least, not feminine.

Hoo boy.

This was going to be a thing™.


	2. Wait...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I have no idea why this posted all weird but leave a comment if you're reading the complete version of this chapter

Today was an average day for Frankie. Well, no. That was a fucking lie. Today was the first day she went through her usual routine and thought about being something other than a girl. It had never really seemed like an option before.

Okay, it kind of had. But Frankie, being oblivious to lgbt issues, legitimately thought at some point that what stopped her from being a guy was that she still liked guys. At some point after Jamia had come out as bi, she had thought about girls but come up empty. Nope. Frankie sure did like boys one heck of a fuck of a lot. But now with the realization that sexuality and gender weren't the same... this could possibly change things.

It was a quick dial, considering that Frankie was a millenial and thus should not have any phone numbers memorized (according to the stereotype anyway). A few dial tones, and then the all-too-familiar answering machine, cold and matter-of-fact.

"Hi. This is James Dewees. I'm unavailable right now, but please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you." Another dial tone. Frank, feeling sassy as usual, responded with an impression of him.

"Hi. This is Frankie. You're unavailable right now, but please quit being a stupid fuck and get your lazy ass back to me as soon as you can. Thank you." That was normal for them.

* * *

 

"Hey Frank. Frank. Loser, wake up!" Frankie was a little shocked to hear Gerard use an insult affectionately, but groggily opened her eyes. She could swear that it was Gerard's voice she heard, but the room was empty. Sterile. Frankie realized she had been sitting on a hospital bed wearing a pristine yet warm-looking gown. Slowly she stood up and walked around, seeing a full length mirror...

Frankie's breasts were gone. They were never that big, but now her- wait- _his_ chest was flat and male looking. His fingers were thicker, and his muscles were more defined. A thin scar spread across his ribcage.

"You're beautiful."

* * *

 

Frankie wasn't sure whose voice that had been when she woke up. The first voice had definitely been Gerard, but the second?

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of Billy Joel screaming. She really needed to change Dewees' ringtone.

"Francesca Iero I swear I will break you if you keep impersonating me over my answering machine."

"Love you too, bitch." Dewees audibly sighed, sounding kind of like a Dalek through the staticy receiver.

"You have ten seconds to explain what you called me about."

"Uhh..." Frankie hesitated. "What do you know about Doom Patrol?"

"That most of the characters are queer as fuck and make no sense." Dewees sounded exasperated, as he usually did when he talked to Frankie. They loved each other in a sick sort of way that mostly involved tiredness and insults.

"Well, uh... turns out I might be a little more Doom Patrol than Justice League. G'night James."

Dewees sighed after Frankie hung up. "Took you long enough to notice."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the archive was being hecka weird when I was writing this so this might be a bit later than expected. Gotta love when your favorite sites pretend to function, amirite? Here have some shitty Frank drama.

As usual, school went on for-fucking-ever. Frankie was just ready to cut her(? His? Their? yeah let's go with their) losses and go home to pretend to do homework when... holy fuck.

Gerard Way. In the flesh. Leaning against Frankie's locker. And he was...

"Blond????" Frankie tried to sound irritated and disgusted. Gerard just smirked because he was a dick. "You were voted best hair, then go and dye it BLOND?????"

Gerard shrugged. "I didn't dye it." He paused, a little too dramatically. Finishing his senior year with a gold medal in speech had made him insufferably melodramatic. (Frankie could tell, because they were too at times. What? They were best friends!) "I bleached it. See, there's a difference between bleaching and dyeing. Dyeing is often a two step process meant to darken---"

Frankie cut him off by coughing in a way that sounded like they were saying "gay ass nerd". It sounded like this because they were indeed saying "gay ass nerd".

Gerard sighed, though not without smiling, and muttered under his breath. " _Sudas niant, tu._ "

" _Etiam, tibi amatus manet in aeternum_."

"I have no idea what you just said."

"Mutual. Let's chill."

* * *

Frankie, as one who is familiar with them by now would know, was not great in school. Thanks to Gerard, however, they had begun to actually enjoy literature (with the unfortunate side effects of also enjoying comic books and other nerd stuff that did not help their punk reputation). See, Gerard and Frankie spoke a mutual language, and that was music. Frankie had a sick sort of memory when it came to song lyrics, and Gerard was just weird enough to know a song for everything, so Gerard made quite a teacher as far as they were concerned. Most of this weird knowledge came from Gerard's immense mental database of Broadway musicals, of which Frankie knew he could recite at least 12 on command. It all started one day when Frankie mentioned Pygmalion and Gerard found it his duty to recite the entirety of My Fair Lady complete with choreography and character voices. It was the end of a beautiful friendship.

Okay, so they watched a fuckton of musicals together, even though they could never agree on what made a musical great. Gerard believed in boring things like music theory and a well-composed plot. Frankie was a fan of the important things (read: swearing and minor keys). So far they had only agreed on two musicals that they wouldn't argue all the way through, and even those had their problems. They both loved Jekyll and Hyde, but shared a burning hatred of David Hasselhoff. They thought the problem had been solved when they discovered Hamilton, but Gerard could not rap to save his life (if he had one. He did not).

"Okay so what's your homework on today?"

"Aids epidemic of the 80's and 90's." Frankie smirked, finally confident that they had outwitted Gerard.

"Good thing there's a full bootleg of a musical on that topic saved to my computer." Fucking hell.

Frankie had to admit that Rent was actually pretty good, made better by the part where Gerard tried (and failed) to restrain himself from singing both parts of Light My Candle. Frankie tried (and failed) to restrain themself from taking a video (or several) and posting it to Snapchat (and instagram).

Less than 20 minutes after Gerard had to pause the recording indefinitely due to Frankie's uncontrollable laughter, Gerard decided to check instagram.

**frnkiero has tagged you in a video**

**frnkiero** cause of death: Gerard. When isn't that my mood though? @gwhiz138

**thereallynzway, mwheezie, and donna-way like this**

Gerard's death glare was palpable. An impressive feat, considering that it was currently directed at not only Frankie but his mother and two siblings. Well, at least he had a metaphorical leg up on Frankie. Chuckling, he clicked to make a new post.

**gwhiz138 has added a photo**

**gwhiz138** Those in glass houses should not throw stones. @frnkiero, the gauntlet has been thrown.

Frankie silently pulled out their phone after hearing the ping and unlocked it. Slowly, their foot slid across the couch before tracing over Gerard's knees, earning a break in his patented combination death glare/victory smirk to form a look of utter confusion (or what would be if Gerard had any kind of facial expressions when he wasn't acting). Their foot continued on its journey before settling into the junction between two cushions, giving them the proper leverage to swing their entire body onto Gerard's lap.

"Gerard?"

A man of few words, Gerard simply slid off his glasses and blinked at them.

"I could break you right now."

"So try." There was a hint of a smile in his eyes and words. Frankie, with their forehead pressed directly into his, couldn't see his eyes very well, but still knew exactly what they looked like when he said that. The two were close enough, emotionally and physically, that if Frankie really wanted to catch him off-guard, all they would have to do is lean forward slightly and pucker their lips when...

"GERARD WE'RE HOME" Lindsey kicked in the door, quickly followed by Mikey carrying a pizza. "Oh hey Frances why don't you go ahead and stay for dinner."

Frankie eyed the two curiously. Mikey seemed oblivious, or just really good at ignoring shit, but Lindsey was being a bit too sweet. Almost as if she had just seen somebody jump out of her little brother's lap with their eyes closed and lips puckered. They wanted to say that it was nothing like it looked, but a denial would not only make Lindsey more suspicious as well as tip off Mikey to what could have been but definitely was not just going on. Not in a million years.

And if Gerard was somehow even stiffer and more mortified than Frankie, they couldn't be bothered to notice. If only Lindsey was the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The language Gerard speaks is... well... I'm gonna let you figure that out. My only hint is that it was really hard to find a translator. Nu nulis tu visa!

**Author's Note:**

> Okay some things to clear up confusion: Jimmy is a nickname that Frank uses for Jamia, not for a separate character. This fic starts with Frank using she/her pronouns bc at this point he doesn't realize he's trans yet. Thanks for reading, and well, this especially goes out to the bros: Acid (Jamia), Voodoo (Dewees) and Neptune (Gerard). Y'all do you.


End file.
